


The Crow and The Peacock

by Cocohorse



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Affairs, And Non-Established Relationship, Angst, Drabble Collection, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, fluffier than you think, sxvxrxssnape's Snapetober 2020
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:02:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26842573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cocohorse/pseuds/Cocohorse
Summary: Who would've thought that Severus Snape and Gilderoy Lockhart could get along?A series of very soft and unrelated Snockhart drabbles forSnapetober 2020.Prompts completed so far: torture, exhaustion, sick/fever, nightmares, secret injury, grief.
Relationships: Gilderoy Lockhart/Severus Snape
Comments: 2
Kudos: 35
Collections: Snapetober





	1. Torture

“Hold still.”

As much as 17-year-old Snape wanted to storm away and throw off the silly clothes, he found himself reluctantly rooted to where he was standing.

“I will curse you,” Snape threatened.

“You will thank me.”

Somehow, nobody else but Gilderoy Lockhart could get this physically close to Snape without being harmed.

“It’s for your own good,” Lockhart scolded, as if he was speaking to a child.

Snape growled as a practiced hand looped a tie around his neck. “It’s more torture than good.”

Lockhart, standing underneath Snape’s glowering, looming figure, made quick work at the black tie around Snape’s stiff, open shirt collar. The boy’s hands grazed against Snape’s neck and chin, making Snape feel funny.

“There,” said Lockhart, finished and a little proud that he was able to tame the beast. He stood back and looked at his creation: Severus Snape in a suit and tie. “Now we can go.”

Snape found himself unable to move like a cat stuck in a sweater. “People will laugh and point.”

“They won’t dare, if I’m there.”

“ _Especially_ if you’re there.”

“They will be too busy dancing and snogging to bother.”

Snape recoiled at the mental image. “God, I hate dances,” he groaned, “almost as much as I hate dressing up for them.”

Lockhart took Snape’s hand. “Everyone will think you look handsome,” he reassured. “I think you look handsome.”

“Your opinion doesn’t matter.” Snape didn’t let go of Lockhart’s hand. “We’re dating. You have to say such things.”

A blush began to spread across Lockhart’s face.

It was not common at all for Snape to state their relationship. _We’re dating._

With this realization, Snape looked away, feeling more embarrassed over his words than over how he looked.

“What are you waiting for?” he snapped.

Snape marched away away to the dancefloor, leaving Lockhart to gape wordlessly before following after him.


	2. Exhaustion

It was past midnight, and the pile of fan mail had become alarmingly high.

Perhaps one more, Lockhart blearily thought, and he slowly reached for another letter through his drooping eyelids.

Opening the letter was difficult. Reading it was a challenge; words blurred into each other before his very eyes. And signing the letter was a Herculean effort; he picked up his quill, put its tip to paper, and found that nothing legible could come from the ink.

After signing what looked like “Gildrg Lockhhhsrt” on his animated picture, which was facepalming at the terrible attempt, Lockhart leaned forward onto his table and promptly fell asleep.

He did not notice how the man in the long, dark clothes entered the room. Nor did he notice how a small blanket apparated around his shoulders. And he did not stir when the candles in his office were put out.

When he awoke the next morning, he found the pile of his fan mail miraculously stacked and finished, all with a perfect copy of his signature.


	3. Sick/Fever

It was a well-kept secret that Lockhart had learned from Madam Pomfrey when picking up some cold medicine: _Snape was considerably needy when he was sick._

Severus Snape? The man who could put a stopper on death? Lockhart wouldn’t normally believe that the Potions Professor, of all people, would be demanding of attention and care when incapacitated by a sinus headache, but he quickly saw that it was indeed true.

“Give me that,” hissed Snape, reaching for the vial of pink liquid in Lockhart’s hands. He was laying in a bed and had watched as Lockhart entered gingerly with the requested medicine.

Lockhart did and watched as Snape emptied the vial in one single gulp.

“All good?” asked Lockhart, faintly smiling at how funny the bedridden man looked with his red eyes and watery nose. Not that he would ever say that out loud.

Lockhart was met with a vigorous shake of Snape’s head.

“Please get me a tissue box and another glass of water.”

Lockhart returned with the items and set them gently on the bedside table. “That should be enough for now,” he said, watching Snape snatch a tissue. “Madam Pomfrey said that you just need rest.”

“I’ll get rest soon,” growled Snape in between blowing his nose. He sounded stuffy and nasally, and it was sort of cute. “I’m famished. Would you get me something to eat?”

After searching the Great Hall and looting a couple muffins from the Hufflepuff table, Lockhart returned, again, carrying a small plate, napkin, and utensils.

“Blueberry _again_?” came Snape’s grunt.

Lockhart watched in awe as Snape quickly finished eating, leaving the plate clean and the napkin and utensils untouched. “I will let you sleep now,” Lockhart finally said, starting to back away toward the door.

“I can’t sleep without getting some work done,” Snape said matter-of-factly, trying to look serious despite sitting in a bed with crumbs on his face. He folded his arms. “Fetch me some papers to grade. They should be on my desk. Do _not_ touch anything else.”

Despite the strong temptation to read through the man’s curious scribbles and notes scattered across his desk, Lockhart listened to Snape’s instructions and found the students’ papers and a pen.

Lockhart looked on in pity as Snape liberally applied red ink all over the papers. “I think you should rest after you’re finished,” he suggested.

“I will,” muttered Snape without glancing up, focused on leaving a nasty surprise for his students. Then, finally, he said, “That should be all.”

But Lockhart had one more idea. “I’ll be right back,” he said. Before Snape could raise a question, he spun around and exited the room.

Snape was still busy grading when Lockhart returned. He stood in front of the sick man and cleared his throat.

Snape stopped, set his papers and pen down, and looked up. Confusion spread across his face as he saw what Lockhart was holding. “What are those?”

“Lilacs.” Lockhart placed the flowers into Snape’s hands. “I hope you have a quick recovery.”

It was hard to tell if Snape’s cheeks were already red from being sick.

“Get out and let me sleep.”

Lockhart smiled and obeyed one last time.


	4. Nightmares

There was a quiet knock at his door.

It had better not be another student begging him to change their grade. “Come in,” muttered Snape from his desk.

The door peeked open and in slid not a student, but an adult man in a prim blue suit.

“Professor Lockhart,” said Snape, frowning. He sat up straighter in his chair. “Do you need something?”

Lockhart closed the door behind him and stepped forward. “No,” the blonde man replied sweetly. “I just wanted to see you.”

“See me?” Snape’s brows furrowed in confusion as Lockhart carefully approached his desk. “What for?”

Lockhart stood in front of him and his desk. “I’d like to get to know you, Severus.” He placed his hands on the desk and looked Snape in the eye with a smile. “Can’t coworkers be friends?”

Snape leaned back in his chair, trying to put some distance between him and the other man. “Certainly not. Not with you.”

There was almost a look of innocent sadness on Lockhart’s face. He leaned forward. “You don’t like me?”

Why the hell was Lockhart so close? He smelled like flowers and warm cologne. Snape felt his collar grow stuffy with their close proximity. “Not — not really.”

“Hmm. I’m sure we can change that.”

What did Lockhart mean by that? Then Snape slowly realized what Lockhart meant — as the man circled his desk and came up to him in his chair.

Snape didn’t notice that his breathing had quickened. He looked up at Lockhart and felt something hot and hungry sink to the bottom of his stomach.

“Perhaps we can,” Snape murmured in agreement.

His hand replaced its pen with the end of Lockhart’s tie.

* * *

Snape awoke in his bed with a jerk. His cheeks were flushed and his body was aching.

It was just a nightmare.

He groaned. Thank god.

Yet later that day, as he graded papers at his desk, he caught him himself glancing up at the door.


	5. Secret Injury

Snape was perhaps one of the greatest masters of Occlumency. Infiltrating the ranks of Voldemort’s Death Eaters was probably one of the greatest feats of deception ever pulled.

Yet he could not hide everything, not always.

He had been careful to remain mostly dressed the few times he was with Lockhart. Kissing, touching, and, well, _other_ activities didn’t necessitate the display of his body — and, not to mention, his Dark Mark.

But now, as Lockhart’s wet mouth moved down his neck, as Lockhart’s eager hands tugged at the buttons of his vest, Snape let his inhibitions slip.

A few buttons came undone. A warm hand roamed across the revealed flesh. 

Snape found his arms pulling Lockhart closer, his lips meeting the other’s, his fingers —

Snape hissed sharply through his teeth.

“Something wrong?” Lockhart drew back warily, his hands leaving Snape’s bare chest. Then he looked at where he had touched and blanched with shock. “Your ribs —”

“They’re almost done healing.” Snape defensively draped his robe across his torso, hiding the broken purple skin. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” Lockhart spoke softly, sounding worried. “We can stop.”

“I said, _I’m fine_.” Snape looked up to see that Lockhart was staring curiously at him. “Quit gawking,” he snapped.

Lockhart moved closer, but Snape didn’t react. He took Snape’s hands aside and gently moved away the robe. His eyes fell upon the injury with great interest.

Snape sniffed. “It’s awful and unpleasant. I know.” He felt ashamed around the other man, whose appearance and body was perfect and unblemished in every way.

But Lockhart was looking at him with the utmost adoration. “It is not,” he said, brushing a light hand across Snape’s chest, careful not to touch his ribs. “You are lovely no matter how you look.”

Snape hissed again.

Lockhart jerked his hand back. “I’m sorry,” he said quickly, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You’re all right,” Snape muttered. He had not been hurt. Rather, his hiss was his natural reaction to a compliment. “But just keep your hands elsewhere for now.”

He didn’t need Lockhart to touch his chest again and feel how fast his heart was beating.


	6. Grief

Gilderoy Lockhart always looked forward to Tuesdays.

Tuesdays were when he would wake up and the sweet, pretty nurse would tell him that someone was there to visit him.

“Mister Snape?” he’d ask excitedly.

“Yes,” she’d reply, and she’d let in Snape and leave them alone to talk.

Snape would come in and sit at his beside. Then Snape would ask him how he was feeling and what he did that week and what he remembered, if anything.

Gilderoy Lockhart did not know who Snape was, but he gathered, over months of weekly visits, that Snape was someone he used to know. A coworker. A friend. Maybe something else, by the way that Snape avoided Lockhart’s inquiries about how close they had previously been. Lockhart didn’t know much more about Snape besides the fact that he made potions and worked with children who had worms for brains.

“Like me?” laughed Lockhart. He often felt sorry that he could not place Snape’s face or recognize Snape’s stories from his past.

“No.” Snape’s voice was firm.

“You’re too nice, Severus,” Lockhart said lightly. “But it’s true.”

“They will heal you.”

Lockhart shook his head sadly. “They cannot. They’ve told me.”

“Then I will.” Snape stared at him and the took his hand. Snape’s hand were surprisingly strong and warm.

“You will?” whispered Lockhart, eyes full of wonder.

Snape nodded. “Yes. I will heal you. I promise. It’ll take some time to gather the materials for a potion that I think may work, but I’ll return as soon as I’m done.”

“Okay.” Lockhart’s heart leapt in his chest. He felt giddy holding Snape’s hand. He smiled.

Snape smiled back.

He did not return next Tuesday.

And the next.

And the next.

Lockhart did not mind. In fact, he was in happier spirits than he had ever been at St. Mungo’s.

Two months passed.

When Lockhart asked the sweet, pretty nurse what had happened to his visitor, she became hesistant.

Why? What had happened?

Why was she holding his hand and settling him into his bed?

What was she saying?

Snape was gone?

Gone where?

A war? A battle?

It did not make sense.

Lockhart was suddenly crying. Not because he was grieving over his friend, but because he felt that somewhere, deep down, buried behind the fog, was a distant memory of someone who he would never remember.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I guess it's not ALL fluff


End file.
